Sin
by Yellow Mask
Summary: Now Complete! Five years in the future, the homunculi have launched another attempt to create the Philosopher's Stone. Their numbers are depleted, as Roy killed Bradley over three years ago. But that cost him more than anyone realised...Royai.
1. The General

**Sin**

**By Yellow Mask**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own FMA.

**Spoilers:** For the names, appearances, histories and orgins of the homunculi, and Hughes's death.

**Chapter 1**

**The General**

_AN: This is set five years into the future of the anime, before Al becomes the Philosopher's Stone and sometime after Hughes's death. It should be considered AU, and fairly strongly so. And be warned people – this is not a cheery fic!_

_And thanks goes to LaughingAstarael for beta-reading this._

**oooooooo**

"Sir, we need your signature on these papers."

General Roy Mustang sighed, half-tempted to snap his fingers and burn the papers to ash. After all, it wasn't like he needed to be on his best behaviour anymore in the hopes of a promotion. He was General, one rank below Fuhrer, and it was as high as he would ever rise in his current condition.

After all, the Fuhrer needed to be fit for active duty, and Roy certainly wasn't capable in the field. Not now, at least, and probably not ever.

A quick glance in the mirror always reminded him why.

A black eye patch covered his now-absent left eye, and his left hand was made of automail. By themselves, these would have been no great handicap, but when combined with some of the other problems he'd developed...being given a clean bill of health for active duty wasn't happening in a hurry.

The 'incident' three years ago had left his heart badly damaged. During exercise and exertion, a normal person's heart rate sped up to supply the body with the necessary blood and therefore, oxygen, enabling the muscles to work harder, the body to move faster...normally. In Roy, his heart simply refused to do so. Its beat rarely altered, and when it failed to do so it left him weak and faint.

Not to mention the phantom pains. The strange, inexplicable agonies that would grip his body from time to time, sometimes mild, sometimes strong enough to bring him to his knees.

Yes, active duty was a long way off.

Roy shook his head as though to forcefully pull his mind away from his dismal thoughts. He always got broody around this time of year. On the anniversary of...'the incident'.

Which reminded him...

He grabbed the papers and signed them hastily, trying to clear enough space on his desk to justify his little 'excursion'.

"I'll be back soon, Lieutenant Colonel," Roy nodded at Havoc. "I have something to do."

"Huh?" Havoc started, then checked both the clock and the calendar. "Oh...your 'errand', right?"

"Right."

"By the way, Colonel Elric reported in. He says the mission's finished, but he's going to stop in at Rush Valley first and see his fiancé."

Roy nodded. Come to think of it, he should probably visit Ed's future wife/mechanic soon as well. He could always ask someone in Central for a quick tune-up, but the condition of his automail hand was beginning to degenerate to the point where it needed the expert hand of Winry Rockbell – its original creator.

"And Lieutenant Colonel Elric is coming before the promotion board soon, and he's asked you for a reference."

Al had officially joined the military as a State Alchemist after his body was restored. Roy still found it mildly amusing how different the two brothers could be at times – Ed would have chewed broken glass before he asked Roy for help in getting a promotion.

"I'll be back soon, I'll deal with everything then."

But as Roy was going to leave, Havoc spoke up again, making him pause with his hand on the knob. "Sir...this is the anniversary of the day you took down the homunculus that was sitting at the top of the military...so it shouldn't be _all _about loss."

Roy's eye closed briefly as a phantom pain rocked through him to match the ache in his heart. "Yes, on this day, three years ago, I finally killed Fuhrer Bradley...but Havoc," his eye rose to the man sitting at the desk, anguish in its depths. "What did that cost me?"

He left before any reply could be made.

**oooooooo**

He stopped at the flower shop on his way, picking out two bouquets. Roy couldn't help thinking it was very convenient to have the flower shop on the way to the graveyard.

They probably hadn't planned it that way, but a trip from his office to Central's collection of gravestones took his straight past the flower shop. And once a year, without fail, he purchased two bouquets of flowers.

The first one he laid at Hughes's grave, a silent memoir to the friend who had stood by him for so long. And the second...

He stood in front of the white marble headstone, laying his flowers down beside the rotted remains of the ones he had laid last year. He never set foot in this place except on this day – it was too painful. He gently brushed away the leaves that had collected on the surface of the stone and dug out the dirt and moss that had accumulated in the letters carved there.

_Beloved Daughter and Devoted Soldier._

_She Fell In The Line Of Duty._

_Riza Hawkeye._


	2. The Shadow

**Chapter 2**

**The Shadow**

Sometimes, Roy thought the entire universe was out to make him suffer.

The loud, echoing crash above him signaled the source of his latest suspicion. He was supposed to be kept off active field duty! Just his luck that the homunculi would launch a full-scale attack while he was right in the middle of the battlefield.

He only barely dodged a swath of splintered wood that fell from the heavens. He was already beginning to gasp, his heart refusing to obey his body's commands to start working double-time.

It didn't help that it was the middle of the night, either. He could barely tell where the attackers were, let alone have any real hope of avoiding them.

He caught a flash of yellow hair out of the corner of his eye, and felt suddenly nauseous. Was _she_ here?

He had to get out of there.

But where? Roy cast his eye around, gasping as a phantom pain nearly brought him to his knees. Why now? Why now, of all times?

It vanished soon, but sharp pinpricks of agony kept stabbing through his body, apparently at random intervals and in random body parts, as he staggered under the eave of a building.

Hardly knowing what he was doing, he snapped his fingers, managing to melt the lock into unrecognisable slag. The door gave way, and he staggered inside.

The shop was dark and empty, and Roy found himself thankful it appeared utterly deserted. He lurched to the counter, seizing the smooth wood in his hands, using it to stay upright as he panted, weak and shaking.

**oooooooo**

He didn't know how long he remained there, trying to will his heart to work properly. It didn't work. It had never worked before, why should it work now? But eventually his breathing slowed, and strength returned to his muscles.

Until a crash sounded from the side of the building. It sounded like splintering wood, mixed in with metal twisting. He heard footsteps.

Someone was coming inside. And judging by the destruction of the wall, it was someone with violent tendencies. But his eye couldn't pierce the thick curtain of darkness long enough to see who it was.

His breathing sped right back up again, and his muscles went right back into uncooperative mode.

Sometimes, he was absolutely certain the universe was out to get him.

Roy tried to stagger away from the counter, but only managed to drop to his knees, wheezing loudly.

Great. He couldn't have been a more obvious target if he'd painted a lurid bullseye on his chest.

He heard the distinct sounds of clothing shifting, and the footsteps changed direction, coming towards him.

"Who's there?" Roy rasped out.

He knew he shouldn't do anything further to attract their attention, but he wanted to be absolutely certain he wasn't about to burn some poor kid to ash. There was no response, so he raised his hand and snapped his fingers.

A sharp tongue of flame burst into life, snaking towards those echoing footsteps. The dancing fire illuminated the shop for only a few moments, throwing up dark shadows on the wall, as another, swifter shadow danced away from the light and back into darkness in the space of a second.

And suddenly, Roy knew what he was facing. No human moved that fast.

There was a homunculus in the shop with him.

And for the first time in years, his heart rate actually sped up a little. Only a little, though, not even coming close to the rhythm his body demanded.

He couldn't hear any footsteps anymore, and Roy silently cursed the darkness that hid his assailant. Not that they'd actually done anything to him yet, but with homunculi, you knew it was just a matter of time.

He snapped his fingers again, aiming roughly in the direction he'd seen the amorphous shadow take. Another bright burst of fire that sparked and died, but this time Roy was sure his eye caught a flash of pale skin before the night closed in once more.

What were they doing? Toying with him? Roy had to admit, it did remind him of the way cats played with injured mice. And in his current condition, an injured mouse would be about all he could take on.

He tried once more to gain his feet, surprising himself when he managed to pull himself upright.

If he was to have any hope of surviving, he needed to get out of here. The shop was too open – an attack could come from any side, at any time. He needed to force his opponent into a bottleneck, somewhere he could at least have a chance of doing them serious damage before they closed on him.

He snapped again, swinging his sluggish arm in a circle to try to illuminate the entire room. Another teasing flash of pale skin – an arm or a leg as the homunculi skittered out of sight again. But the dancing flames had revealed a door just to his left – small, probably a cupboard used for storage.

It wasn't perfect, but it was probably the best bottleneck he'd get.

Roy didn't think. He just bolted for the door, managing to throw it open in spite of his fuzzy vision, and groped blindly in the dark, trying to find the light switch.

It clicked, and dull light from a dusty bulb above him washed into the room. It only barely illuminated the cupboard, and did almost nothing to the darkness in the shop outside. But it was enough to silhouette the figure standing just in front of the counter, facing directly into the storage room.

Roy watched, fighting to stay on his feet, as they took a slow step forward.

"Stop right there," he rasped, raising his fingers, poised to click. "You've seen my alchemy, I'm sure it can take care of a homunculus as easily as it takes care of humans."

Well, that wasn't exactly true. But the false bravado bolstered Roy's courage.

Except the figure laughed. Laughed out loud, short and mocking, as though that was the funniest thing they'd ever heard.

"You can't kill me," the voice sneered, a voice that made the hairs on the back of Roy's neck prickle sharply in a chilling sense of familiarity. "After all, you made me."

And finally, the homunculus stepped into the pool of watery light. And all the blood drained from Roy's cheeks, unable to keep himself from reacting to the sight of the creature's face.

It was _her_.

The homunculus created from his failed attempt to bring Riza Hakweye back to life.

**oooooooo**

_AN: Thanks again to LaughingAstarael, who beta-read this._


	3. Despair

**Chapter 3**

**Despair**

"You..." Roy choked out.

A small, triumphant, almost condescending smile curled her lips. It was a smile that had everything of Riza's face and nothing of her soul behind it.

"Me."

"What...what do you want?" Roy managed to say, his throat as tight as if someone were strangling him.

"That would be telling," she smirked. "But who really knows? Maybe I'm just curious about my creator."

Roy flinched at that title, his head turning slightly to the side as though to avoid a physical blow.

He didn't want to be reminded of what he'd done. He didn't want to be reminded of that day, three years ago, when he and Riza had finally confronted the monster masquerading as the Fuhrer. Except Pride had been expecting him.

The fight had been vicious and grueling. Eventually, Roy had managed to locate the skull that was the final remnant of Pride's human body, and finally kill the homunculus beyond any hope of regeneration.

But not before Pride had managed to inflict a fatal wound on Riza. Roy could still remember the horror, the utter despair that had consumed him as he knelt over Riza's broken body.

And then he'd remembered human transmutation. He already knew how to draw the circle required – his research after the Ishbalan war had not been entirely fruitless, after all. He'd considered trying to resurrect Maes with his knowledge, but had exerted just enough willpower to stop himself, reminding himself of how many had already tried and failed.

But when he knelt before the corpse of the woman he loved, dead because she had followed him, all the taboos, all the warnings on how homunculi were created had meant nothing to him.

It had taken him perhaps twenty minutes to draw the circle and drag Riza's body onto it. But then everything had backfired. In the process of trying to resurrect Riza, he'd lost his hand, his eye, his health – his bad heart and phantom pains had been another result of the attempted human transmutation.

Then he'd seen that...that _thing_...on the circle...and lost it. He'd run. Run from the building with his eyes missing and a twisted, bleeding stump in place of his hand.

He'd opted for automail, of course. Ed and Al, the younger only recently restored, had introduced him to their mechanic. Winry Rockbell, the daughter of the doctors he had killed, ironically enough.

And he'd finally learned why Ed complained so much. The post-surgery rehabilitation had been hell, and there was nothing to compare to the pain of attachment.

But he'd dealt with it. Somehow, he had managed to continue on. Everyone thought his disabilities had been gained during the fight with Pride. And Roy felt no particular need to correct them. Let his attempt to violate the laws of nature remain his secret until his dying day.

At least, so he'd thought. But then, one year ago, he'd been shown some surveillance photos of the homunculi. And in the shadows, barely visible, was a woman with blonde hair. Nothing else could be discerned, but Roy had known...somehow, he had known.

And ever since, lived in dread of ever seeing her in the flesh.

As he was now.

"I must admit, I'm curious about one thing," she said, peering at him. "You've seen the Gate, correct? Why do you still bother with the gloves?"

"It doesn't do to advertise," Roy said flatly.

He knew he could probably just clap his hands to transmute something. Probably, because he'd never really tried it. He hardly knew why, but it was probably his fear of discovery – if someone saw him clap his hands and miraculously perform alchemy, saying it would arouse suspicion would be an understatement.

She nodded. "Yes, I imagine it would raise some uncomfortable questions, wouldn't it? Just as seeing me would raise some questions. Riza Hakweye, back from the dead?"

"You're not Riza," Roy hissed. "You're not even human."

"No, but I was created through human folly. As were all the homunculi, for that matter. It's in our name, isn't it?"

Roy's eye narrowed. "I don't follow you."

"You don't?" her eyes were measuring. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to educate you a little. Think for a few moments. Most people who perform human transmutation are motivated by love. Whether it be love of power, love of the ideal, or love of the person themselves. But there are other, secondary motivations...and it is those that give us our names."

Roy blinked. "I don't see how-"

"Oh, come on,it's not that difficult," she mocked. "Think about it for a moment. Lust is a strong player in a romantic relationship, is it not? And Gluttony just happens to represent Dante's all-too physical hunger to devour the Philosopher's Stone. Greed showed how eager she was to have everything – power, control, and her lover. Pride was quite literally her pride in her abilities – he was to become the Fuhrer, was he not? That old fool, Hohenheim, was always envious of those happy families, so when his son died, what did he do but try to bring him back? Hence, the name of Envy. That woman was angry at whatever fate had stolen her child and rendered her infertile – so her creation was named Wrath. And the Elric brothers...they were just plain lazy. They didn't want to adjust to the changes, didn't want to deal with their grief, didn't want to simply appreciate what they still had...so they made Sloth."

Roy was reeling. The information that had just been handed to him seemed incredible. He'd always thought that the homunculi were named for the seven sins, and now she would lead him to believe it was just coincidence?

"And you?" he finally managed to grind out. "What's your name?"

"Now what kind of question is that?" she frowned. "You're the one who made me, they were _your_ emotions."

Another smirk slid across her face. "I'm Despair."

He was about to say something – what he would have uttered, he didn't know – but at that moment Despair's head jerked around, listening to something only her keener-than-human senses could hear. Another cruel smirk twisted her lips as she looked back at him.

"Well, it's been fun, but I've got to get going."

"You're not going to kill me?" Roy asked, feeling stupid even as he voiced the words.

"Of course not, we can't kill you," Despair murmured absently as she turned and strode from the shop.

Roy started after her, hardly knowing why he did, but when he reached the shattered wall it was already too late. Despair was gone.

Roy peered into the night for several long moments, before he gave up, and turned to head back home. He really needed to think.

And it never occurred to him to wonder why his heart had remained perfectly cooperative throughout the entire conversation.

**oooooooo**

Despair watched him go. Crouched on the roof, she could see him easily, but she would be hidden from his gaze. She watched him until she turned a distant corner and vanished from her view.

For a brief moment, duty to the homunculi fought with the urge to follow him. Memories stirred, faint, ghostly impressions of standing at the side of that very same man, but they soon vanished once more.

For all her appearance and mannerisms, Despair was not Riza, and while her memories could be recalled and examined, they held little hold on her.

She jumped from the roof, and walked to meet the others.

**oooooooo**

_AN: Again, thanks to LaughingAstarael, a wonderful and outstanding beta. And I do know that the homunculi are named for the seven sins, but I just thought my explanation was an interesting alternate one. Plus, it explains Despair's name pretty well._


	4. Ball and Chain

**Chapter 4**

**Ball and Chain**

Roy bit back a savage curse as Winry reattached his automail hand. No matter how many times he endured this ritual, the depth and savagery of the pain always surprised him.

Memory could always play tricks on you.

He snatched a short nap on the couch – Ed's famous way of dealing with the pain of automail reattachment, and Roy had to admit, it certainly worked.

Two hours later, he was roaming the streets while he waited for the next train bound for Central to pull in. While he and Ed had taken the trip to Rush Valley together, both with their automail in less than stellar shape, Ed was now busy spending some time with his fiance.

Roy was sitting at the table in a quiet cafe, staring into the distance and trying to reconcile the image of Despair's face with Riza's.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that, at first, he thought the flash of gold was just his imagination. But when it came again, he took a closer look.

Roy's blood froze in his veins. Despair was right in front of him, weaving through the crowd, her steps heavy, rapid...purposeful.

She was going somewhere.

Roy didn't even think about it. He didn't even pause to consider how foolhardy it was – he just rose from his seat, threw some money down on the table, and followed. His logical mind was screaming at him, but he found himself unable to resist the near-hypnotic pull of Riza's face.

**oooooooo**

Despair smiled to herself. Did he think she wouldn't notice? She could feel his gaze from the moment his eyes landed on her. Sometimes the connection between them – formed the moment he brought her to _un-life_ – was almost a physical chain linking them together.

She continued on her way, Roy barely two metres behind her.

Memory flickered like a candle flame. A dim recollection of a time when she was the one who followed him, who shadowed him, protected him...

Despair shook her head, dislodging the faux memories from her consciousness. She wasn't Riza. But some part of her couldn't help but be intrigued by the woman who's memories played behind her eyes, the woman Roy Mustang had risked everything to bring back.

She told herself there wasn't any true sentiment behind it. Just curiosity. Despair refused to acknowledge the painful truth that these memories might have a hold on her – however dim and thready.

She wasn't Riza...but some part of her was connected to the woman whose death had led to her creation.

Despite the tumultuous thoughts roiling beneath, Despair's face was a perfectly composed mask as she searched the streets, scanning for a particular name...

_Winry Rockbell's Automail._

Finally.

**oooooooo**

Roy sucked in a harsh breath as he watched Despair pause in front of Winry's shop. Her eyes narrowed, and she appeared to study the building as though calculating something. Roy sped up, trying to ignore the uncomfortable tightness in his chest as his heart refused to accelerate its beat.

The door suddenly swung open, and Ed stepped out, nearly running into Despair. He checked himself, raised his eyes to her...

And froze.

"L-lieutenant Hawkeye?" he stammered, his mouth open in shock.

Despair hissed in frustration. She hadn't thought of Fullmetal – such a stupid mistake! She shot a backwards glance at the dark-haired man following her, and decided that she would have to salvage what she could. Her orders had been to appear in Rush Valley, shake Roy up a little, make him think there might be a threat to Edward Elric or his soon-to-be wife...there was no reason she couldn't expand on that a little and make the younger alchemist a little uneasy, too.

And she had a good idea of what would shake Fullmetal up.

"I'm not Lieutenant Hawkeye," she smirked. "I'm Despair – a homunculus, in case you were wondering."

"But how-?"

"Oh, I think you'll have to ask the General about that," she practically purred.

She half-turned as Roy caught up with them, and smiled like a cat that had just caught a mouse.

Ed's eyes landed on Roy, horror in their depths. "You didn't-"

"He did," Despair cut in. "And I for one, am very grateful. After all, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him."

Roy had a moment to wonder how such an innocuous sentence could sound so poisonous.

Despair glanced at the shop again, purely for Ed's benefit. "Though my mission does seem to have been interrupted..."

"What mission?" Ed hissed, the revelation that there was a homunculus version of Riza taking a backseat at the realisation that her reason for being here couldn't possibly be benign.

Despair smiled broadly, and when she spoke, her voice carried a thousand implied threats. "Just checking up on the mechanic."

She watched, with a touch of satisfaction, as Ed's fist clenched and his eyes burned with anger. "Winry's not your concern. She's nothing to you."

"But she's everything to you, isn't she?"

Ed remained silent, but that was all the answer Despair needed.

Behind them, Roy decided it was time for an intervention. He raised his hand, and snapped his fingers, letting his flames dance through the air, taking care to hit the homunculus, not Ed. Some part of him cringed at the idea of burning Riza's body...but he had to keep reminding himself it wasn't really her.

Despair heard the tell-tale clicking sound, and started to drop to the ground, but was too slow to avoid the blast entirely. She gritted her teeth as the flames licked her side, and she rolled herself over on the ground to smother them before they could do more damage.

Roy wasn't even aware that Despair had struggled to her feet. He was occupied with the strange, phantom-pain that had suddenly ripped through his side. He dropped to his knees, gasping for air as Ed lunged at the homunculus.

But Despair had recovered sufficiently to flip gracefully out of the alchemist's path, turning a complete revolution in the air before her feet touched the earth once more.

Despair paused a moment to weigh her options. She didn't relish the idea of a fight with two State Alchemists – even if one of them had a handicap – in broad daylight, with a crowd already beginning to gather.

So she smiled, and nodded to them. "See you around."

Despair laid just enough menace in that statement to worry them, and let her eyes linger on the sign _'Winry Rockbell's Automail'_ just long enough to keep Ed nervous for a while, before she simply turned and ran into the crowd.

They tried to pursue her, but they were no match for Despair's unnatural speed, especially with Roy's heart condition, and soon lost her in the maze of streets.

**oooooooo**

The train ride back was so frosty Roy thought he could see icicles forming on the ceiling.

"So...you tried human transmutation," Ed stated more than asked, one eyebrow raised.

Roy nodded. This wasn't going to be an enjoyable conversation, he could tell.

"And created Despair."

Roy nodded again, fighting back the memories of that night. The blood...the pain...

_'Riza.'_

"How long have you known?" Ed asked.

"About...about a year, I guess," Roy muttered.

"You guess?"

"I saw a photo...but I only saw her in the flesh a few days ago."

Ed's eyes were hard. "And you didn't think to tell anyone?"

"How could I?" Roy snapped. "She's-"

"_She's not Hawkeye!_" Ed's voice carved the air like a razor.

Roy was struck mute with shock.

"She's not Hakweye," Ed repeated, his tone softer. "That's the first thing you have to realise, and the hardest. She's not Hakweye. She has Hawkeye's appearance, and probably has her memories, but she's not the lieutenant."

Roy eyes darkened, the coal-colour deepening to hardened onyx.

"Don't ever let her fool you," Ed urged. "That's the mistake I made with Sloth."

Roy nodded, an almost imperceptible movement of his head. The homunculus created by the brothers had perished at Ed's hand a few months ago.

"She won't be able to fool me," he vowed.

But Ed's face was grim. "It's easy to say, but when she actually uses Riza's memories to manipulate you, are you going to be able to stay firm then?"

**oooooooo**

"We've got a problem," Ed announced as he walked into Al's room.

"Hello to you, too," Al said, amused. "What's the problem? Winry decided she doesn't want to marry you, after all?"

Ed glared. "This is serious, Al! Remember when Mustang destroyed Pride?"

Al's mood instantly sobered. While some might see the homunculus's destruction as a day of celebration, for most of their friends it was anything but. Al had liked Riza Hawkeye, and the tough, no-nonsense woman had paid for the victory with her life.

Mustang had never been the same. Al's office was close to the General's, and more than once, late at night, he'd heard the older man wake from a nightmare, screaming his lieutenant's name.

"I remember."

"Well, guess what? Mustang's injuries didn't come from the fight, he tried human transmutation!"

"You mean he-?"

"Tried to bring Lieutenant Hawkeye back to life," Ed finished. "But it gets better. We met Despair – the homunculus he created – in Rush Valley today."

Al remained silent, trying to sort through his thoughts. Some part of him was convinced this was some kind of bizarre dream. Roy Mustang wouldn't...he couldn't have...

"But...he knew it wouldn't work..." Al murmured weakly.

Ed shrugged. "Maybe he just had to try."

The unspoken 'the way we did' hovered in the air like thick perfume.

"So...why was she in Rush Valley?" Al ventured.

Ed's fists clenched. "I think...I think she was checking up on Winry."

"Winry?" Al gasped. "The homunculi are watching Winry?"

"I don't know!" Ed snapped, running a hand through his hair in agitation. "She wasn't exactly forthcoming!"

Al recognised the guilt and worry in Ed's voice, and suppressed the urge to snap back at him. Ed was terrified that something could happen to Winry, and at the same time, feeling that he'd made her a target by becoming involved with her in the first place.

"How's Winry taking it?" Al asked eventually.

Ed's lips twitched, and he felt some of his anxiety ease at the memory of their conversation.

"_I'll just to be on my guard then," Winry said, her tone bordering on flippant._

"_You seem awfully calm about this..."_

"_Ed, you're the Fullmetal Alchemist, you're always going to have enemies. I always knew there were certain risks involved in being with you. I just think you're worth those risks."_

_She'd smiled, and snuggled up to him on the couch, her head resting under his chin and her cheek pillowed on his chest._

_He'd been forced to chuckle, and had held her tightly to him. He'd gazed at the small silver ring on her finger, the proof of their engagement, and felt his chest grow tight._

_He had been pretty sure this was proof that the law of Equivalent Exchange had failed. Because there was no way he'd ever done anything good enough, noble enough, selfless enough to deserve Winry._

"She took it pretty well."

Another pause, and Al asked an even more loaded question. "How's Mustang taking it?"

"Who knows?" Ed snorted bitterly. "Who ever knows with that guy?"

"Is he-?"

"I think some part of him still believes Despair is Riza," Ed said shortly, his frustration leaking through.

"But she's a homunculus!"

"I know, Al! But how long did it take us to accept that Sloth wasn't Mum? Something tells me it might take Roy even longer."

**oooooooo**

Roy sighed heavily, leaning back against the seat and surrendering to the steady, rocking rhythm of the train.

He knew this was a bad idea. He knew he was asking for trouble. He knew this was likely to get him killed.

But he just couldn't stay away.

The homunculi had been stirring up trouble in a city called 'Last Haven', and some military personnel – mainly State Alchemists – had been dispatched to combat them. Forbidden from field duty, Roy wasn't among them.

But he was going anyway. Just on a train, instead of with the convoy.

He knew this was a bad idea.

But...Despair might be there. And he had to see her. Just to cement in his mind that she wasn't the woman he'd loved. Just to confirm that she was truly Despair, not Riza.

And if he kept telling himself that, he might believe it.

**oooooooo**

Roy edged around the building as carefully as if he were performing brain surgery. Any sound, any sudden movement could give him away.

Despair was in front of him, her back to him, and both were in a small courtyard away from the heat of the battle. Roy had managed to track Despair here, though why a homunculus would come here, he had no idea.

Despair was well aware of the man behind her, but was also aware of the fact he was no real threat. She could regenerate any damage he dealt, and she suspected he didn't really have it in him to kill her. Not yet.

She had taken shelter in the courtyard, even though the very idea that she should have to take shelter rankled her. But the sight of the blue uniforms had sent a string of disjointed memories reeling through her, and she had to depart to get herself under control.

She wasn't Riza, but sometimes, the memories of the military woman could be rather overwhelming.

She felt, more than heard, the alchemist behind her shift once more, and decided to end the charade.

"Hello, Roy."

Roy froze. Adrenaline and the urge to flee pulsed through his veins, but he figured he had nothing to lose. Despair already knew he was here. If she wanted to kill him, he'd have been dead already.

So Roy squared his shoulders, and stepped out from his hiding place.

"Funny," Despair mused, turning to face him. "I wouldn't have thought they'd let you in the field, with your condition."

Roy's jaw clenched. He could tell Despair knew he wasn't on active duty, she was just taunting him. "I'm not on active duty, as you well know."

"Really?" She raised her eyebrows, in an expression so eerily similar to Riza that Roy had to look away. "Then why are you here? Surely not to see me?"

She knew that was exactly why he was here, and Roy felt extremely uneasy. He wasn't sure what he'd had planned anymore, all he knew was that his grasp on the situation was gone.

If he'd ever had it in the first place.

"What are you going to do?" Despair asked quietly. "What do you want? To talk?"

"Hardly," Roy managed to say.

Despair cocked her head in an exaggerated gesture of puzzlement. "Oh? To fight, then?"

Roy never got the chance to answer. As soon as the words left her lips, Despair spun towards him, her foot coming up in a solid roundhouse kick.

Roy ducked, scrambling backwards, cursing himself as his heart began to fail him once more. He snapped his fingers, sending a swift burst of flames towards Despair, that caught her on the arm.

Almost instantaneously, a sharp burst of pain travelled up his own arm, as intense as if it was his own flesh that had just been scorched.

He had no time to ponder that mystery, as Despair's foot swung out of nowhere, and this time, it connected. Roy's head spun to the side, a thin arc of blood whipping through the air.

But to his surprise, Despair hissed in pain, clutching her jaw, where a dark bruise was beginning to blossom. Blood smeared on her lip, and she licked it away.

Despair turned back to the man on the ground, giving a bitter smirk at Roy's obvious astonishment.

"Puzzled?" she asked, planting a foot on his chest to hold him down. "Never figured it out? Never connected the dots?"

Despair couldn't help revelling in the knowledge she was about to throw in his face. He just looked so patently shocked.

"Ever wonder about your 'phantom pains'? Your bad heart? Ever wonder what the transmutation took from you to cause them?"

By the look on his face, it had obviously never ocurred to him to wonder just what had happened that night.

Despair wanted to laugh at his confusion. "Don't you get it? You paid a surprisingly low price for your attempt at resurrection...at least in body. But somehow, in compensation, the transmutation linked us."

"How?" Roy croaked, his voice hoarse.

"Your heart, for one. It never speeds up, does it? Because a homunculi's heart never speeds up, either, and your heart is _always_ beating in rhythm with mine."

Roy's mouth opened, but no sound emerged.

"And your 'phantom pains' are another symptom of our connection, I'm afraid. You feel those pains when I sustain an injury, though because I can heal myself, the injuries never actually manifest on your body...unlike yours..."

Despair touched the bruise on her jaw. "You injuries do the same, in that they manifest on my body. And because you're just a _human_-" she spat the word like some terrible insult "-the injuries linger until your body heals, which means they stay for a disgustingly long time."

"But-" Roy's voice failed him.

"Don't you get it?" Despair hissed, her face close to his. "I'm your ball and chain, Roy. And unfortunately, you're mine. Remeber when I told you we couldn't kill you? If I were to kill you, if anyone were to kill you...I'd die."

Abruptly, she took her foot from his chest, and stepped away. Roy sat up, breathing heavily, and she regarded him coldly.

Then she spun on her heel, and walked away, tossing over her shoulder, "So walk boldly, Roy, the homunculi can't touch you."

Just before she disappeared around a building, she turned back to him. "In fact, you're probably the only one we need to survive this, so I'll give you a little tip. Last Haven's church will be left intact in this rampage, I suggest you move in that direction. In fact, if that church, and the circle beneath it fell, it would be disastrous to our plans."

She had no idea why she was telling him this – practically giving him written directions on how to stop them. She wanted to say it simply amused her, but that wasn't exactly true. The strange burning in her chest was far from pleasant.

In truth, Despair had no idea what she was doing. Later, she'd blame Riza, blame the memories and emotions that were connected a little too strongly to Roy for even her to sever, but now...now she barely knew what she was doing.

And it wasn't a feeling Despair liked. So she moved swiftly away. Despair turned the corner...and came face to face with Envy.

The shapeshifter's lips curled. "Traitor!"

His arm elongated into a deadly weapon, a lance that swept straight for Despair's chest.

**oooooooo **

_AN: Thanks to LaughingAstarael, who beta-d this chapter despite her currently hectic life._


	5. Riza's Last Wish

**Chapter 5**

**Riza's Last Wish**

Despair was too shocked to react, frozen as Envy's weapon shot towards her. But then she felt something drive into her side, something warm and firm, and the impact threw her to the ground in a heap.

Roy had thrown himself against her, knocking her out of the way of the impending attack. But his momentum carried him forward, and Envy's makeshift spear impaled him in the abdomen.

Roy fell to the ground, blood already soaking his clothing. Beside him, Despair choked, retched, and vomited red stones across the paving.

"_You idiot!_" she hissed.

Then she spun upwards, her hand lashing out. Her fist caught Envy in the temple, and he was flung into a wall. The homunculus collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath.

Despair knew she had to move fast. Her power allowed her to drain her opponent's strength, but it wouldn't work long on another homunculus. She bent over, regurgitating more of the crimson gems, and heaved Roy into her arms.

Harnessing the reserves of her failing strength, Despair sped away.

**oooooooo**

"_You idiot!_" she hissed again.

She'd managed to move them into a furniture warehouse, and Roy was propped in a sitting position against one of the boxes. Despair was in front of him, leaning heavily against a pile of crates.

"Sorry," Roy offered weakly, coughing a few drops of blood onto the floor.

He was dying. He knew it, she knew it, and the growing blood stain on his jacket and the crimson pool on the ground was testament to it.

"Why did you do it?" Despair ground out, spitting another stone onto the cement. "I would have survived it! And because you had to play the hero, we're both dying. You from your injury, and me from my connection to you."

"Sorry..."

"_Why did you do it?_"

Roy smiled – a weak, self-depreciating grin. "Instinct, I guess. You look like Riza..."

"I'm not Riza," Despair said evenly.

"I know. But you look like her...and when I saw you in danger...it was instinct."

Despair looked at him. Slowly, she stumbled towards him, until she was looming over the alchemist, right beside him.

"Instinct?" her voice laughed at him.

But strangely, Roy found it didn't bother him. Not now.

"Instinct..." he nodded weakly. "Human instinct...to protect...what you love..."

Despair found herself softening, almost against her will. Within her mind, her soul – if she had one – the spectre of Riza Hawkeye rose like a phoenix from the ashes.

"She loved you, you know," she stated.

Roy's brow creased, and she could see in her eyes he was beginning to slip away. She could feel her body deteriorating as well.

"How-?"

"I might not be her," Despair murmured, feeling herself slide towards the floor as her legs buckled. "But I have her memories. And she loved you, even at the very end."

She didn't know why she told him such a thing. But as his eyes lit up like a condemned man given redemption, some part of her was glad. Another part of her – the part connected to Riza, she was certain – was almost saddened. They had loved each other...and had never so much as shared an embrace while they lived.

"I loved her, too..." Roy managed to gasp out. "For so long..."

Despair didn't know why she did it. And she would never have the time to find out. But as Roy's eyes began to dim, as her own body began to disintegrate, Despair leaned forward. She placed on hand on the back of Roy's neck, tilting his head up and pressing her lips over his in a soft, sweet kiss.

Perhaps it was curiosity – simply to see what it would be like. Perhaps it was an indulgence – patronising the human side of her. Perhaps it was a manifestation of the deepest desire of Riza's life – to love Roy and be loved by him in return.

Perhaps it was the last wish of Riza Hawkeye.

**oooooooo**

Last Haven marked the advent of the destruction of the homunculi, the place in which the monsters were finally buried, mainly thanks to Edward and Alphonse Elric. After the battle, the brothers learned Roy Mustang had followed the military convoy by train, and searched for him.

His body was discovered in a warehouse, beside a pool of red liquid and small, red stones.

General Roy Mustang was given a hero's burial, and was interred next to Lieutenant Riza Hakweye's grave.

**End.**

**oooooooo**

_AN: Thanks once again to LaughingAstarael, who first looked over my fic outline and gave me some great ideas, and then even beta-read each chapter. Girl, I adore you!_


End file.
